


The Fortunate Misunderstanding

by Clueingforlooks221B



Series: WOY-tober Challenge 2016 [6]
Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: Awards, Death Glare - Freeform, Fluff, Humor, M/M, halloween party, vampire Hater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 08:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8321179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clueingforlooks221B/pseuds/Clueingforlooks221B
Summary: (WOY-tober day 12: vampire) Wander slinks into the seat Hater was just in, wide blinding grin covering half his face. “Mr. Peepers,” Wander squeals, “I just wanna say how great it is that you both came here.” His eyes are sparkling, and Peepers glances at Sylvia whose still smirking. “Eek it’s just so cute how y’all decided to match too!” He grips his hands together, squeezing hard. “And in such a spicy way,” He playfully nudges Peepers, causing him to fall forward a bit. His eyebrows waggle as his tone drops low. “I didn't think you were the type. But! It’s adorable either way!” Peepers scoots so his back is resting against the chairs back. His legs no longer touch the floor, but he’s too preoccupied in the conversation that’s occurring to notice. He splutters, starting at the zbornak who is still smirking! “Just what are you two on about?!” Wander blinks, backing away and straightening back up. “Well, Hater and you comin’ in a couples costume of course.”Peepers pupil shrinks, and for once he is left mute. There’s no way he heard that right. He glances to Sylvia, whose lips are stained in a smirk. “W-what?!”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I am posting this half asleep so it may not be up to par, but regardless enjoy!

“AUGH PEEPERS COME ON! YOU’RE TAKING FOREVER!” The last bellowment is dragged up his esophagus as he slides his spine down Peepers door. His coat protects him from the impending splinters, but the rigid timber words shred Peepers eardrums. They’re sharp and small, and Peepers knows getting them out will be impossible. 

The commander sighs, studying himself in the mirror before slamming his helmet on his head. He adjusts it to be straighter, eye narrowing in a glower that stenches of irritation. A large part of him wants to point out Hater was the one taking forever since he’s been in his room all day preparing his costume. But that would only lead to an argument, and more screeching that Peepers doesn't feel like giving the effort to draw forth. It’s not worth it. 

Giving one last long exhale that he knows won’t be his last tonight, he opens his bedroom door. “Okay sir here I-“ Peepers halts, rendered mute at the sight of Lord Hater. 

The lack of chartreuse in his irises screams out to Peepers senses first. A deep carmine has replaced it, the colored contacts completely concealing his natural eye color. Around his eyes remain dark, but the additions of purple bleed in under his eyes and blend around them. Shades of rich ebony strike the corners of his eyes, and highlight the bridge of his nose. His face is somehow a whole shade lighter than usual, fading from pearl to the petals of a daisy. Although his cheekbones are normally apparent, they are even more now that they contrast to the dull yet bright white. A light shade of sable decks the tops of his cheekbones, a faint line slicing down them causing the imitation of shadows to appear. Peepers knows it’s really blending the shades of obsidian that mimic shadows, but regardless Lord Hater looks great. He’s exchanged his usual coat for a long sleeve onyx one that has coat lapels that hide his neck. 

But what really makes the picture is the crimson coated along the bottom of his lips that trickles down the edges of them. Fake fangs poke through, and Peepers realizes that he likes this all a bit too much. 

Blinking he slams his door, rushing to briskly walk down the hall. “Let’s just get this over with.” His hushed grumbled tone matches his face, irksomeness saturating his figure and weighing him down. 

“Wait! Grop Peepers, you can’t go like that!” Hater has yet to move, standing firmly besides Peepers door. 

“What?” Realizing Hater isn't following he halts, spinning around on the tips of his boots. “Why not? I go everywhere like this and you never had a problem with it before.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, lids narrowed as he studies Hater. Okay sure, he didn't look as great as Hater. But he didn't care enough to put effort into anything. This is Awesome’s party after all, and he doesn't want to try for that wannabe. He doesn’t even want to go! 

“Exactly! Peepers this is a Halloween party, duhhh.” Hater slouches forward even more than usual, fangs revealing themselves as his ivory jaw hangs open. He rolls his, now currant red, eyes as the duh is wrenched from his diaphragm. 

“Oh sir do I have to?” The inquiry whines out of his mouth, falling in defeat to the charcoal ground. He already knows the answer; he doesn't even know why he voiced the complaint. 

“Uh yeah, come on Peepers didn't you read the invitation? It says costumes are required.” Hater pulls the invite out of his coat pocket, jabbing the fine print at the bottom. Costumes are totally required and if you don’t have one you’ll be thrown out. 

“Well, can’t I just go as a commander?” His lids waver into an unconfident simper that immediately vanishes at the horizontal shake of Hater’s head. 

“No that’s cheating! Come on Peepers just throw something on we’re running late! I have to make a totally awesome appearance and show off! We’re past the point of fashionably late now!” Hater stomps on the floor and Peepers huffs. He throws his arms out. “Okay sir, fine.” He stomps back to his room, throwing his door shut.   “HURRY UP!” Hater screams as the door slams shut. Peepers throws his helmet down on his bed with so much force it bounces, wrinkling his sheets as it slams into the ground. It rolls and Peepers hisses, nerves consuming his fury that his helmet has cracked. Rushing to pick it up, he breaths out all his anxiety onto the side of his midnight helmet. The area fogs as he softly places it back onto his bed. 

He sits down, hands buried into his temples as he racks his brain for a quick easy homemade costume. “Come on Peepers think! You’ve thought of much harder plans than this.” He mumbles to himself, digging into his brain for something. Anything. 

A mummy! He pops up, before slinking back down. No way is he going out with toilet paper wrapped around him. He would never be able to live that down. 

A ghost? But he didn't own any white sheets… wait white! 

Peepers dashes to the restroom, scrambling for the pale green powder he knows he has. He’s pretty sure he had to use it for a disguise once, but has had it for so long he honestly doesn't recall the reason. Regardless, he’s always held onto it because something told him not to throw it out. He’s come close to several times, but is thankful he never did. It’s under his sink tucked away in the back, and when his glove comes into contact with the small round container alleviation clears his waxy vision. He pops it open, and leans back under the counter to pull out some of his red lip gloss. For disguise purposes too, of course. Wait no, he has paint in the closet.

He rushes to his tiny closet, standing on the pads of his feet to retrieve the paint collection he has. Mainly he uses them to code plans, or paint figurines used for battling procedures. Tossing the paint on his bed, he grips the red paint and runs back to the bathroom. 

Tearing the paint open, the cap slams into the sink as he fumbles with the powder. It’s more of a chiffon than a pale green. Huh Peepers could have sworn it was pale green… perhaps once, just how old was this stuff? He examines the container, but the only clues are the torn label and faded dried up words. Squinting at it he can make out the beginnings of what appears to be a W, and towards the end a T. That is he thinks it’s a T…

“PEEPERS HURRY UP!” 

Peepers jolts as the screech ejects into his heart, flooding apprehension into his veins and making his cells pounce. They thrum against him and he starts to throw the powder onto himself as he strips rapidly. While he applies the powder he looks for his regular clothes, and settles on an old ragged white shirt and black leggings. As he wrestles with getting his pants on he coats his ams and lids in the thick powder. Tossing his gloves off he kneads it into his pink skin, blending the powder to a shade of cotton. 

His shirt flies on over his eye, and once it’s on he studies himself. Okay so it’s not green at all, but either way dead people lack blood so what’s the difference? People pale when they die… right? So white is even more suited, technically. 

He tears at his shirt, making it appear even more jagged. No still not enough. Reaching into his drawer he pulls his scissors out and holds his shirt away from his chest. He stabs holes into it, and tears them wider open. The sound of fabric ripping echoes in the small bathroom, and the sensations ease him. 

Then he remembers where he’s heading.

Placing some of the red paint in the cap, he sprinkles the crimson onto his torn up shirt. Speckles of red rain down on his shirt, and with his empty hand he coats his palm in cherry red. He rubs his hand around the left side his neck, and coats so much some drops flood down into his naval. Taking water he rinses his hand off before the paint can dry, and with a towel eases away some of the fake blood on his neck off so there’s not so much. 

“PEEPERS!”

Shakily twisting the cap onto the paint, he rushes out. His hand is on the doorknob, but he stops when he almost slips. He looks down, eye met with his long socks. Grop shoes!   His hands bite into the laces of his black boots. Bouncing on one foot he lugs the first boot up his foot, but ends up giving in and collapsing on the bed. With nimble trembling fingers he laces up both of the boots and jumps up. 

He figures as long as he isn't dressed like he normally is it’s fine. Awesome didn't say the costumes had to be good, or contain any effort. 

Heart vibrating his system, steady reprieve calms him as he shuts his door. 

Hater stares at him, eyes growing blank as he jaw dangles slightly. Peepers stands, growing tenser as his back is directly against his door. 

“Uh, what are you supposed to be?” Hater narrows his eyes at him, puzzlement dancing behind his colored contacts. 

Peepers blinks, he thought it had been pretty obvious. Sure it wasn't as decked out as Hater’s attire, but he at least thought people would get the general idea. But this is Lord Hater after all. 

“A zombie.” The words waver, self consciousness leaking in them and causing them to slink. 

Hater shakes his head, “Whatever we’re loosing time! Let’s go already.” Hater stalks ahead and Peepers follows after him. 

He’s already dreading his decision to go. Things revolving around Emperor Awesome never end well. 

The watchdogs wanted to go for the party and free food. But mainly as an excuse not to do work, or sit in another boring meeting. Of course Hater found out about the best costume trophy award, and wanted to show Awesome and everyone else up. Lord Hater figures Wander is going to be there, and wants to beat him at getting the trophy too. So Hater knows he will killing two birds with one stone by outshining both of his most hated enemies. 

Peepers had to admit that Hater actually has a huge chance of winning an award and defeating both Wander and Awesome. For once. 

————— 

Peepers rolls his eye at the sight of the burly towering bounty man standing in front of a black bar. Lord Hater passes him both their invitations, and he slouches over as he waves one of his hands dismissively. “Yeah I’m Lord Hater, number one super star, greatest in the galaxy, I’m sure you know who I am.” 

The bounty man opts for not responding, instead inclining his head backwards in confusion as he studies Peepers. Confusion smears his features, and his lips hang heavy as the unasked question stitches across his lower lip. 

Oh for grop’s sake! Is it really that hard to figure out! Peepers is about to blurt out he’s a zombie, but the man focuses his attention back on Hater. His eyes dart in between both of them, before his features slim down back to neutralness. He nods, stepping aside and drawing back the tape to let them both through. 

Huh, odd. Peepers shrugs it off, figuring the man either figured out what he was or decided asking wasn't worth his time. 

Lord Hater saunters in, inky coat waving behind him. Peepers hurries to Hater’s side, all while scanning the room to see how many people he despised would be loitering around. Immediately he spots Wander, but luckily Wander hasn’t made eye contact with any of them yet. Wander is too busy buried in a conversation with Sylvia to notice. His black cat ears dance with each tilt of his head, and across from him Sylvia’s witch hat does the same. Propped against her chair is a broom. 

Out of reflex he groans to himself at the sight of them and their tacky matching costumes. His thoughts wrestle on whether he should warn Hater, or allow Wander to reveal himself. 

He decides on the former, “Sir, the enemy is here.” Peepers whispers as they walk, attempting to keep things discreet for as long as he can. 

“What?” Hater glances at Peepers, before looking in the direction Peepers is staring in. 

Then he groans, “Oh great.” His eyes fall over his black cat costume. “Well his costume is super lame anyways, so I’m totally gonna beat him!” He cackles. 

Wander spots them, eyes widening and sparkling as his hand blurs as he waves enthusiastically. He pulls his hands in front of his mouth, taking a deep breath. Peepers winces, ears preparing for Wander’s screech. “HATEY WHOA NICE COSTUME!!”

People around them curiously glance at Wander, before setting back into their conversations. 

Hater smirks, swaggering over to Wander. Exhaling, Peepers deadpans and leisurely follows. 

“Fancy seein’ you both here! I didn't think y’all would make it!” Hater plops down besides Wander, slouching completely into the small ivory chair. Hesitantly Peepers sits besides him, sitting tensely and on the edge of his seat. 

Sylvia eyes dart between Hater and Peepers, a slow smirk slithering across her lips. Peepers lids slant, concern and curiously penetrating him as he sees her features morphing. “What?” Peepers waits until her eyes are on him to voice the inquiry. 

Her lips stubbornly stay shut. Before he can harass her further Hater kneels in close to him, whispering, “C Peeps look by the stage, it’s Awesome.” He starts laughing softly. “His costume is even lamer than Wander’s he’s a stupid werewolf. Doesn't he know vampires always beat werewolf duh I totally got this trophy everyones costumes are dumb. I’m gonna go show him how much better I still am.” Smirking Hater pulls his chair back, stalking over to Awesome. 

Wander slinks into the seat Hater was just in, wide blinding grin covering half his face. “Mr. Peepers,” Wander squeals, “I just wanna say how great it is that you both came here.” His eyes are sparkling, and Peepers glances at Sylvia whose still smirking. “Eek it’s just so cute how y’all decided to match too!” He grips his hands together, squeezing hard. “And in such a spicy way,” He playfully nudges Peepers, causing him to fall forward a bit. His eyebrows waggle as his tone drops low. “I didn't think you were the type. But! It’s adorable either way!” Peepers scoots so his back is resting against the chairs back. His legs no longer touch the floor, but he’s too preoccupied in the conversation that’s occurring to notice. 

He splutters, starting at the zbornak who is still smirking! “Just what are you two on about?!” 

Wander blinks, backing away and straightening back up. “Well, Hater and you comin’ in a couples costume of course.”

Peepers pupil shrinks, and for once he is left mute. There’s no way he heard that right. He glances to Sylvia, whose lips are stained in a smirk. “W-what?!” Is all he can manage to say, before words start tumbling out, “That’s ridiculous! That doesn't even make any sense! I’m a zombie and he’s a vampire! How’s that a couples costume?” 

Wander backs up even more, tilting his head as he reassess Peepers. “A zombie?” 

Peepers nods. “Yes! What did you think I was?!” 

Wander mirrors Sylvia, grin closing into a smirk. “Well, you look more like a victim to me.” It rumbles out his chest. 

“A victim?! What does that even mean?” Peepers lids gape open, his pupil locked on Wander whose nodding. Wander waggles his brows again, opening his mouth wide. Peepers waves his hands out, “Wait! Stop! I know, I know, don’t go any further!” He can feel his face heating, and tries to cool it down. 

“I’m clearly a zombie! I’m covered in blood, and spread pale green all over me!” Peepers gestures to himself, and Sylvia’s smirk finally drops.   She quints at him. “Really? Pale green?” She crosses her arm as Peepers adverts eye contact. “Well it’s a very light shade of green, I think,” he mumbles the last part, “Regardless zombies are pale!” 

Sylvia snickers, “Pale green. Pale white is a vampire, skeleton, or ghost. Basic Halloween knowledge, come on Optic Nerd.” 

Wander nods. “And all the blood is on one side of your neck.Your shirt is also torn to shreds like you’ve been rough housin’.” Sylvia cackles, “Yeah, and the blood around Hater’s lips that practically match the shade of your blood doesn't help.” Wander simpers, tone growing higher, “Yeah it looks like he marked ya-“ 

Peepers slams the palm of his eye onto his face, then buries both of his hands over his eye.“Okay okay stop!” 

Peepers sighs, masaushing the top lids, “I guess I can see where you're coming from now,” he exhales out, “But I still look like a zombie! There’s blood on my pants and shirt too, and…” he pauses, stuttering, “I’m a zombie!” 

Wander nods, but is clearly unconvinced but trying to be nice. Sylvia, on the other hand, openly laughs, “Alright whatever you say. You don't have to admit to it if you don't want to.” Her lips tilt back into a smirk, and Peepers glares at him. His eye grows hot again, the beginnings of cherry sinking into the edges of his eye. 

“I’m not lying!” Sylvia smirk widens somehow, and her eyes shine in disbelief. 

Peepers can’t believe they actually think Hater and him are a couple! 

Wander grips the bottom of his chair, hopping to scooch closer to Syl. “I guess he's shy.” He stage whispers, and Peepers blood boiling. His further anxiety is burnt from the fury. 

Behind Wander he sees a familiar hunched figure heading back.

Peepers leans close to both of them, settling the tops of his hand on the table. “Not a word about this.” He hisses. 

Wander bites his lip, holding his squealing at bay. Sylvia continues to smirk. Peepers glares at her. “I mean it zbornak, we’re not a couple!”

Wanders squealing intensifies as he winks at Peepers. Peepers groans, face palming once more. Through the cracks of his fingers Sylvia’s smirk mocks him. 

Hater slams into his chair, the force of it causing the chair to slide and smack into Peepers. He jolts, but Hater offers no apology. Instead he adjusts his chair to be straighter, and crosses his right leg onto his left knee. “Hah! Grop you guys should have seen his face! I totally showed him up!” 

Across the table Wander continues to bite his lip, his squealing getting louder and louder akin to a boiling tea kettle. And Peepers didn't want to be around when he went off. 

Peepers shoots up. Hater narrows his eyes at Wander, “What’s wrong with yo-“ 

A nervous trembling laugh wavers off his tongue, slowly inching off his tastebuds. “I’m going to get sone drinks! Does anyone want anything?” He shifts his weight from foot to foot, before forcing himself to stay still. His hands are rigid by his side, shoulders drawn up as his heart slams against his rib cage. 

Sylvia picks up her cup, swishing the vermillion liquid in her cobalt plastic cup. It splashes close to the rim of the cup, dangerously close to spilling out and coating her fingers. Wander stops his squealing, luckily, to direct his pupils towards his cup indicating he already has a drink.

Hater skull loosely moves vertically as he waves his hand dismissively once more. “Ooh yeah I saw some punch that looked good.” 

Sylvia shrugs, removing the cup from her lips. “Ah, I’ve had better.” 

Peepers gives a firm nod, “Y’okay sir I’ll be right back.”

He looks between a smirking Sylvia and a lip biting Wander, and his deep exhale does nothing to release his anxieties. 

Peepers doesn't want to leave Hater with them to reveal their completely wrong accusations, yet at the same time he really doesn't want to be around to see Hater’s reaction. 

Commander Peepers halts at the sight of Awesome’s faux furry back. One boot rests ahead of his body, while the other stands firmly in the back. He switches from the pads of his feet, debating which fate is worse. A conversation with Awesome, or one of Wander and Sylvia’s delusional fathoms that Hater and him are an item. Grop the things Lord Hater would say to that… the expressions he’d make. He’d definitely blame Peepers too. 

Peepers heart flinches, feet already moving. Yep, Awesome it is. 

His plan? Ignore Awesome, get the drinks as efficiently as possible, and get out of there. 

Of course with Awesome, like-wise to other villains, his plans rarely worked.

He has his hand on the ladle, in the process of holding the violet purple plastic cup when Awesome spots him. He starts pouring the liquid in, and Awesome takes his first bite. “Getting your boyfriend a drink?” 

Peepers halts in mid pour, before cursing himself for not ignoring him. He just hadn't expected… that. How could he have possibly known, he hasn't talked to Wander or Sylvia since he’s arrived. He resumes to pouring the punch, keeping his gaze locked on the vibrant punch. “No,” He struggles to keep his voice steady and calm, “I’m getting Lord Hater a drink.” 

Out of the corner of his eye he can see his shoulders bouncing in a shrug. “Yeah, that’s what I asked.” 

Peepers deadpans, setting Hater’s cup in front of him. He reaches for the evergreen plastic cup on the stack of colorful cups besides the punch bowl, before giving in and looking at Awesome. He expects to see a smirk, or mirth behind his eyes. Instead he sees Awesome being strangely serious.  

The expression terrifies Peepers. Awesome actually thinks they’re a couple! Where were people getting this idea? 

Gradually Peepers sucks air in. “We’re not a couple,” How many times had he had to say that tonight? “I’m his commander.” For crying out loud! He wants to add, but it would terminate his cool facade. 

Again, he shrugs. “What’s that got to do with anything peepsqueak?” 

Of course count on Emperor Awesome to not understand basic rules. Peepers ignores him, focusing on making sure he doesn't spill the punch. “We’re not a couple,” he decides on stating that, but the irritation eats away at his calm tone. 

Peepers glances up at him, and yep there it is. His usual smirk and lift of his brow. “Oh really? Then why did you guys come in a couple costume? It’s a bit much for just friends, way too saucy. Didn't think you had it in you. Or Hatey, really.” 

Alright, now he’s really fed up. All his fury rains out of his system. He clenches his fists, glaring at Awesome as his body hangs tautly forwards. “I’m a zombie!” 

Awesome eyes rake over him, and his lips dance as a pshh flutters out of them. “Chau, yeah right bro. Besides, I know a couple when I see one.” 

Peepers slams his cup down. “Well clearly you don’t because we aren’t one.” 

Awesome’s features drop. “Lying doesn't suit your kind.

My kind? Peepers glowers. “We’re not-“ 

Awesome waves his hand. “Yeah, yeah,” he stops the motion, staring at Peepers, “so you just happen to be a vampire bitten victim while Hater, the bonehead who you blindly follow and do everything for, is a vampire.” 

A victim?! “If you were listening to me at all, which clearly you were not since all you ever want to do is listen to yourself,” Awesome bares his teeth, growling, but Peepers continues, “you’d know that one, Hater and I are NOT dating, and two I am a zombie. Okay so maybe it’s not completely spot on, but it’s what I am.” 

Awesome looms closer, towering over him. Peepers stands straighter, refusing to appear intimidated by him even though on the inside he is a tad. “Then where’s your severed limb bro? Where’s the green in your skin cause all I see is white. Where’s the decaying rotting falling off flesh?” With each challenging question Awesome steps forward, and unconsciously Peepers has stepped back until his back smacks lightly into the punch table. Everything on the table shifts slightly, but remains intact. 

Peepers adverts eye contact, preferring not to have to crane his neck to look up at Awesome or stare straight ahead at his hairy chest. “Look I did the costume last minute.” He admits. 

Awesome clicks his tongue at him, his fake dog ears falling forwards a bit at the horizontal shake of his head. 

Why is he even bothering? “Whatever, I don’t need to justify myself to you.” He moves to pick his and Hater’s drinks up, but Awesome grabs Peepers drink before he can. “Thanks for the drink.” He’s smirking, but anger loiters behind his irises and glistens his pearly teeth.” Awesome stalks off, making sure to look back at Peepers as he slams the drink into the black garbage bin. 

Growling, Peepers hurries to pour the punch into his new blinding yellow cup.

He rushes back to the table, only to find Wander and Hater’s chairs empty. He sets Hater’s cup by where he was sitting, mumbling, “Typical.”

Peepers glances around, but doesn't see him in the pact room anywhere. “Where’d they go?” He asks Sylvia, whose calmly sipping her punch. She swallows, lowering her cup. “Oh, Wander wanted to dance and Hater wanted to go show off to more people.” 

He blinks, “Why didn't you go with him?” Sylvia kicks her feet onto the table, leaning backwards. She cracks her knuckles, yawning, “What you want me gone?” she smirks, continuing, “I’m tired of dancing. Wander will keep going all night so better to just let him burn it all out.” 

Peepers nods, heart racing at the thought of Hater talking to others. Who else thought they were an item? Part of him wanted to go after him, yet at the same time he really didn't want to hear Hater’s reaction. Peepers pupil darts around, emitting his nerves as he hopes Hater will come back soon. 

In the silence he gives in to his inquiry. “So how many people think Hater and I are a couple?” Sylvia blinks, “You mean before tonight or after tonight? Well tonight really didn't help.” She cackles and Peepers glares. “You believe me right? That we’re not a couple.” Sylvia shrugs, “The more you deny it the more believable it is.” His lids narrow even more, “Grop zbornak we’re not a-“ he breaths, remembering her words, “oh come on you can’t actually believe it.” Her smirk grows wider, and he honestly can’t tell if she’s messing with him, believes it, or both. 

He opens his lids, but hot breath by the side of his eye interrupts, “Hey Mr. Peepers. I just wanna let you know that I voted for Hatey and you for the best couple costume!” He whispers, but across the table Sylvia can hear him. 

Peepers jumps, whipping around to face him. His fingers bite into the back of his chair, neck tensing as he gapes at him. “You did what?! Wait why are we even nominated?! Who nominated us?!” 

“Oh Emperor Awesome did! Wasn't that so nice of him?” Wanders smile is even more blindingly disturbing than Peepers yellow cup.

Peepers eye whips forwards, scanning the room for Awesome. Immediately he meets gazes with him. In his hands he's holding the votes, pink lips stretched into a thin heavy smirk. “Oh yes, how sweet.” He grinds out between his narrowed lids.  
Abruptly Hater is back, dropping back into his seat. Wander has returned to his already, downing his cup of water. 

“I just voted for myself 48 times, so it’s pretty official that I’m gonna win. Not that I needed to do that to win, but you know, it’s good to support yourself.” Hater’s jaw twists into a smirk as he leans back into his chair. 

Just like how you like all your own pictures on social media? Peepers jabs, in his mind of course.

Peepers takes a gander around, searching out all the couples. There are a good amount of couple costumes.

 He examines each individual couple pair. Okay their both halves of a heart, so they're loosing. Cowboy and cowgirl, yeah they don't stand a chance. A cookie and a milk carton? He’s embarrassed for them. The Joker and Harley Quinn, please he’s seen so many of those since he’s walked in. 

With each couple he looks at he looses hope. 

Then he spots Draykor and Princess Demurra sitting at one of the tables sharing a cannoli. And they are Carl and Eli from UP! Bingo! Hater and him don’t stand a chance at winning now. 

For the first time tonight Peepers relaxes, exhaling as he slinks back into his chair. Nice try Awesome. 

Unless… Awesome rigs it. It’s his party after all, so he can do whatever he wants. 

His mind flashes back to Awesome’s smirk. Oh grop. He chokes on his thickening saliva. He jumps up, the need to get strengthening with each second. He can’t breath past the thick ball in his throat, he needs crisp cool fresh air. 

Emperor Awesome spots this, eyes widening as he rushes to the microphone. “No one go anywhere!” The music screeches to a halt, everyones eyes widening as they wearily stare up at him. 

Some fist fighters run to the doors, shutting and blocking them. “Heh,” The laugh tumbles loosely from his lips, vibrating in unsureness. “because we’re tallying up the votes and are getting ready to present the trophies right now!” 

Murmurs grow increasingly louder, tones high in approval and the room buzzes in excitement. For Peepers, the room buzzes since his skin is. 

The fist fighter is standing in front of the two deep wooden oak doors. 

Peepers smirks at the sight of him, pulse starting to slow a bit. Awesome can’t really keep people out, that would be imprisonment. Peepers lids tilt in a smirk, “Like some of Awesome’s stupid guards could stop me.” He starts to head towards the guard, but a huge hand consuming his wrist pulls him back when he’s almost there. Peepers blood boils, swearing it’s Awesome, but the hand is pale and boney that grips him. 

Hater.

“C Peeps?”

Grop. Peepers stops, already knowing his fate. “Where are you going? You’ve gotta stay and watch me win!” Lord Hater drags him back to the table. 

Peepers mind searches, grasping for some excuse. Anything. 

Hater sits once more, and Peepers stares at him. “Of course sir, I’ve just gotta run to the bathroom! Just real quick.” 

Hater growls, “Well hurry up.” 

Peepers nods, racing to the voting table. It’s not too late, right? He bets he can rig it back. 

He reaches for the box, but Awesome beats him to it. Peepers squeezes his eye shut, hissing, “But I haven't casted my vote yet!” 

Awesome frowns, eyebrows tugging down in mock sympathy. “Oh sorry, looks like your too late.” Peepers glares at him, and through his lips a predatory smile breaks through. “Oh but peepsqueak you have nothing to worry about, cause you two aren't a couple right?” 

Peepers frowns, placing the palm of his hands on the table in front of him. “Well we’re nominated.” 

He feigns innocence, his eyes shinning in mirth, “Oh well, I guess everyone was mistaken.”

The commander glowers, opening his lids but just letting air out. Forget this! Peepers stomps back to his seat, growling. 

He sulks back into his seat, hoping with all that’s in him that Hater and him won’t lose. That Awesome’s just trying to give him a heart attack, and that he didn't rig it. Now he’s starting to kind of regret how snappy he had been, knowing that it didn't help matters. Why didn't he just say yes and scurry away? Then Awesome would've not cared if they won or not. 

“We’re gonna start with the greatest,” he over annunciates the last word, grinning predatorily at Peepers. “couple costume award.” 

Hater’s leg bounces, his knee cap banging into the table causing it to do a jig. “Oh yeah here we go.” Hater leans forward, fangs poking out his smirk. 

Peepers breaks eye contact with Awesome, turning to glance at Hater. His top lid tilts, morphing in concern and confusion. He must have not heard the couple part, out of excitement for winning the best costume. Sweat licks at Peepers skin as he stares back at Awesome. Gradually he peels the envelope back, eluding drama. 

The commander is drenched in sweat. Oh grop please no. His pupil darts around, wondering if anyone else is noticing how slow Awesome is being or his sweating. Everyone’s just staring at Awesome, patient soft smiles wandering across their lips. 

“The winner isssss,” Awesome tugs the poor s on for as long as he can. He stops, backing away from the mic to suck in a deep breath. He goes back, pulling the card tortuously slow out of the light pink envelope. 

Peepers is rocking in his chair, feet swinging as he glances around. Lord Hater is inching even closer to the stage, chest up against the table as he mumbles, “Yes, yes, yes…” 

“Lord Hater and Commander Peepers! For any bro who didn't catch that, the winner is Lord Hater and Commander Peepers for the best couple costume.” Couple profoundly pops of his tongue, Awesome rolling around the vowels to pronounce the word profoundly. 

Hater euros from his chair, howling, “YES! YEAH THAT’S RIGHT WOOHOO!!!!” Before Peepers can blink, which he cannot even muster to do right then, Hater is sprinting to the stage. His ebony coat soaring behind him, everyone stares at him with wide eyes that show their hollow irises. Their lips hang open in mild shock, before twisting into grins. People clap, starting to applaud wildly. Wander whistles, cheering as his grin lights the space around him. Between Wander and the watchdogs, Peepers isn't sure which one is cheering the loudest. 

“DEATH GLARE FOREVER!” One of the watchdogs sitting near the front screeches, propelling himself to stand on his chair. He jumps into the air, ripping off his shirt to reveal a “deathglare 5eva” tattoo. 

One of the watchdogs seated in the back crosses his arms, glancing off to the side bitterly mumbling, “Skeleton dance is better.” 

Towards the front Demurra and Draykor nod in approval, smiling and clapping supportively. 

Peepers still hasn't even brought himself to blink, the glimpse of immense support from everyone puzzling to him. He’d ponder it further, but mortification chows between his brain vessels minimizing his thoughts. 

Wander wipes the tears gathering at the brim of his eyes away with the pads of his thumbs. 

Out of instinct Peepers lids blink, stinging and reprimanding his body for not doing so sooner. 

Hater rips the microphone out of the stand, his other hand shoving Awesome out of the way. He stumbles backwards, eyes widening before drooping to irksomeness. Lord Hater turns to Awesome. “Yeah suck it Emperor NOT Awesome!” Hater cackles, and Awesome’s lids droop even further down into a deadpan. 

He turns back, peering into the crowd. Some of the audience glances at Peepers, expecting him to get up. His sweat has frozen, along with the rest of his body. He looks down at his folded hands in his lap, wishing desperately he had his helmet to hide part of his face. 

Wander leans across the table, grin stretching as he whispers, “Don’t be shy Mr.Peepers.” One of the many watchdogs in the middle screeches, “Come on Commander Peepers!” The people around him cheer, and Peepers is so close at yelling at them to shut up. 

Hater somehow remains oblivious to this all. “THAT’S RIGHT! I, LORD HATER, NUMBER ONE SUPERSTAR AND THE GREATEST IN THE GALAXY WON! Seriously, did any of you even try? My costume is clearly the best I totally deserved this.” 

Awesome shakes his head, barging in before Hater can continue. “Bro this isn't just for you, you know.” Hater blinks, glaring at him. “Huh, what are you talking about?”  
“It’s for Peepers and you bonehead.” Awesome scowls. 

Hater blinks again, before guffawing, “HA! Hah that’s funny Peepers outfit is the lamest in this whole party!” He turns back to the crowd, throwing his arms out. “What is he even supposed to be?” He chortles again, but no one joins him. Not even Awesome. 

The eyes in the room are perplexed, dancing between Hater and Peepers. The commander steadies his face, straightening his spine, but his heart has faltered and bleeds thicker. 

Awesome grabs the mike, and Hater’s mouth moves but no one catches the words. “Yeah, come on up here Peepers. Say a few words! Everyone give the commander a round of applause! Isn’t his outfit just adorable?” He coos, and the audience starts to clap offbeat resounding their hesitation. The atmosphere is boiling, emotions of humiliation and confusion saturating and making breathing almost unbearable. 

The clapping fades, falling to awkward coughs and clearings of the throats. 

With heavy limbs the commander wants up to the stage. Pity is thrown at him like he’s a charity case, and never in his life has he felt so warm. His veins are on fire, and for once anger isn't the only thing driving it. A flame roars in his stomach, roasting his lungs and he feels nauseous. 

As he gets closer he hears Hater’s questions, “What? Why is it for both of us? Did we tie?” Peepers cringes, insides burning as he rushes up to the stage before Awesome can answer. He glares at him, making sure he’s a good length away from the microphone so no one can hear him. “You rigged it.” He shoves his pointer finger harshly into Awesome’s chest. Awesome holds his hands up, a giggle skipping off his tongue. “What? No way bro.” Part of the statement catches into the microphone, echoing into the puzzled crowd. 

Peepers crosses his arm, his stance leaning back as he taps one of his boots against the wooden floor panels. “Right. Like people would actually vote for Hater and I out of everyone else here.” Awesome narrows his eyes at him. “Guess they did bro, because I didn't rig it.” His tone bites, and that’s how Peepers knows he isn't joking. “W-wha?” Peepers glances back into the crowd. This all had to be some kind of joke, right? 

Awesome shurgs, “Cha, beats me. I mean you really do look like a victim, and that’s not the first choice for a couple costume so…” 

Peepers continues to peer into the crowd, met with blank stares. “Can someone just tell me what’s going on?!” The demand stumbles out of his mouth, whooshing past everyone. 

Awesome rolls his eyes, “Dude you and Peepers won for the best couple costume. I said it like three times.” 

“What?” Hater’s eyes squint, studying Peepers for the second time that night. His eyes catch around Peepers neck, gluing there. Peepers brings his hand against the side of his neck, rubbing harshly hoping to get some of it off. But at the first feeling of crusty crackled paint he knows his efforts are futile. 

“Commander Peepers,” It’s that monotone calm voice that sends bad shivers tangling around Peepers spine. “Why did you dress to match with me?” 

Peepers sighs, already knowing where this is going to head but still trying anyways. “Sir I’m a zombie!” 

Hater eyes dull, “No you're obviously a person whose been bitten by a vampire! You look nothing like a zombie!” 

Peepers rolls his eye, past the point of being fed up with this conversation, “Sir-“ 

Hater glares, “Did you just roll your eye at me?” 

One of the watchdogs in the front row smirks, “Ooh the commander’s gonna get it!” His laughter clogs his throat when Peepers glowers at him. Peepers wishes he had his ray gun. That would've solved everything, he could just blast his way out and run away. 

“Now sir, excuse me, but it’s no ones saying as to what I am but I. I intended to dress as a zombie so I am one, even if it’s not spot on.” Hater and Awesome scoff at that. Why won’t people just except that? He’s tempted to add the question, but doesn’t. “But I threw myself together last minute since you didn't tell me it was mandatory to dress up. SO if this is anyones fault, it’s YOURS sir!” 

Hater glares, “Well duh you had to dress up! It’s a Halloween party!”

“Well the nerds probably never been to a party.” Awesome jibs, cackling to himself. It catches into the microphone, serving to the people in the back a late of more confusion as to what’s going on. 

Hater looks thoughtful at that, frowning. Peepers glowers, spluttering. He wants to say he has but… he hasn’t. Hater can typically tell when he lies, so he doesn't bother to. 

“Oh.” In any other situation Hater would have laughed at someone whose never been to a party before. Long ago he would've never let Peepers live it down, and would've told everyone. It would have made him laugh for the rest of his life, and fulfill this deep craving inside his bones. 

But the fact that it’s Peepers doesn't sit right with him. That Peepers has just been outed to this whole crowd, everyone knowing he’s never been to a party before!  Of course to Peepers that’s the last of his problems right now. Sure he would prefer people didn't know that tidbit about him, but right now this whole spotlight on him is worse. That this conversation is far from over, and Hater will soon be uttering the words that will kill him. 

Poor Peepers looks humiliated. Something crawls inside him, squeezing in between his ribcage and making it hard for him to breath at the sight. His pulse stops and he feels like vomiting. His stomach churns, and the palms of his hands itch. 

“Wait a second.” Everything slowly catches up to Hater’s mind. “Couple?” 

Peepers cringes at the word, jolting backwards. Here we go. 

“Like dating?” Hater’s cheekbones erupt in shamrock, adding so much life to his dark features. His eyes grow wide, as his pupils dart from side to side. His hands curl up, hanging in front of him.

Awesome answer is a stony stare. “Uh yeah, what else would it mean?” 

Hater jaw drops, dangling dangerously to detaching. Peepers hopes it does so he can steal it, and won't have to hear what he says. 

Awesome places the microphone back on the stand, adjusting it awkwardly before backing up to where he previously was. 

All that escapes him is air. Several seconds pass, the air growing thicker and tenser. Hater closes his mouth, something shinning in his eyes. He’s about to speak again, but Peepers can’t take it. 

“Don’t say anything sir! Please,” he begs, “We all know! Ugh eew gross Peepers! But he’s a boy! We’re not dating! He's so lame and such a nerd and I’d never da-“ he takes a shaky breath, abruptly breaking eye contact to look away at the embarrassing tremble of deep emotion that tore through his tone. “Whatever just keep the stupid trophy. I’ll change the inscription for you.” He turns to Awesome, blinking the thin amount of moisture from his eye. “Yeah thanks so much Awesome for the nomination.” he bites out, “And thanks to everyone who made this possible.” With that, Peepers stomps down the stage stairs. The banging screeches through the silence, and Peepers stomps all the way back to his seat. 

Hater blinks, slowly dragging himself off the stage. 

Awesome clears his throat, situating himself back in front of the mike. One of the fist fighters jogs up, handing him a pale blue envelope. “Oh yeah! Alright the next nomination is for the best costume. The winner is,” He rips the envelope open, sparing no time. “Oh look it’s me! Wow this is so awesome!” He states it before he could have physically have read the winner. “Thanks so much…” He starts to ramble, people zoning out in favor of staring at Hater and Peepers.

The commander exhales, glancing over eat Hater whose sitting tensely besides him. “I’m sorry sir.” More silence budges in, the only thing faintly breaking it being the buzzing of Awesome’s speech. 

“No I’m sorry.” What? Peepers blinks, eye whipping to stare at Hater. His head is turned, but Peepers can see the neon green smudging his cheeks. Lord Hater just apologized. He said the s word with no suffering! “W-what?” Peepers stutters out, not knowing what else to say. 

Hater sighs, burying his hands into his face. Peepers cringes, hoping his makeup doesn't smear. “That I didn't tell you about having to have a costume.” 

The commander inhales, and it’s the easiest it’s been for him this whole night. His organs no longer feel burnt, and the ashy feeling that dried the insides of his lids is dissolving. “Oh sir its fine. Lets just forget about this all-“ 

“-Do you really think thats how I, um, feel?” Hater rubs his hand against his shoulder, slouching. 

Peepers lids gape a tad. “Well yeah sir.” Peepers shrugs the tingling feeling that attacks slows his heart off, looking away only to meet Sylvia’s eye. That darn zbornak is watching them out of the corner of her eye! 

“I erm… You are a nerd,” Hater starts, and Peepers deadpans at that. “but like I’m fine with that. It’s actually pretty cool, not as cool as me but well yeah only for you it’s cool. You’re not lame since you're my commander and.. pal, I mean to be my commander you can’t be lame. And you don't need to change the inscription because Ilikeit.” 

Peepers focuses hard on the quick speech so he can pick up everything. He’s pretty good at it after knowing Hater for years. “Ialsolikeyou erm beingavampirebittenvictimbetter. It looks better on you. Way better than some lame zombie costume would. I wanted to win a trophy so… Ilikethisonebetter.” 

Peepers gapes, drinking the words in. He takes the time to consume them, making sure he heard each stark consonant correctly. “You mean, you wouldn't be advised to being a couple?”

Hater shakes his head, shamrock coating his face. “I mean if you're cool with that than I’d be fine with it.” He shrugs trying to look chill and cool, but Peepers can hear the hesitation. He nods, making sure to do so when Hater’s pupils dart back to him. 

Wander starts squealing, ruining their moment. “WHAT WANDER?! AUGH you’re not apart of this!” The green vanishes from his cheeks, his crimson eyes glowing in anger. Everyone nearby has scooted closer and is leaning in trying to listen, but at the yell back and look away.

Wander simpers, resting his arm over his eyes as his squealing intensifies. “Aww I'm sorry Hatey I’m just so happy for y’all! And maybe, just maybe, with this developin’ relationship,” Hater’s eyes budge and Syl mutters, “Oh no buddy, hey buddy, please stop talking.” She stresses the please, but Wander continues, “EEk I'm sorry Sylvia I just can’t help it! Maybe you’ll both be happier and with all that love stop being-“ Hater interrupts, “AUGH NO STOP IT!!! You're ruining everything!!” Wander squeals, and Awesome clears his throat loudly into the mic. 

Everyone’s head turns back to him. “Anyways as I was saying, the winner of the scariest costume is,” People tune back in, actually interested now. “The black cube of darkness.” Awesome nods at that, figuring the black cube of darkness had that trophy in his… well not hand he guesses. He’s too lazy to conjure a substitute. 

The cube floats up to the stage, leaning into the microphone. He screeches and howls, air whispering around him and fueling the atmosphere with uneasiness. Just as quickly as it started it ends, Awesome hesitantly stretching his arm out to rest the trophy on his head. As he floats away Awesome steps back to the microphone. 

“Heh heh, well back to Part-“ Awesome strikes pose, kicking his leg up. “AY” He spins showing his butt. “ING!” He kicks again, grinning. 

The music blasts back in, and Awesome prances down the stage. 

Hater smirks, “This party is lame, wanna go?” 

Peepers blinks, before laughing. He nods, and they both get up at the same time. 

Wander and Sylvia have headed towards the dance floor, so they slip out unnoticed. 

The guard has left the door so they easily get out, the heavy oak door shutting behind them. The hallway is narrow, and the walls are chiffon. Once they're several aways down Hater pins Peepers against the wall, towering over him. His pupils have expanded and darkened, and his face is serious. “S-sir?” 

“Grop thinking about what everyone thought in there. That I bit you.” Peepers face heats, not believing Hater is actually saying this. “S-sir, they don’t really think that they know it’s just paint.” Hater shakes his head, “Yeah but still what the costume is.” Peepers sighs, “Zombie, sir.” He reminds him. 

Hater blinks, before smirking. “Well then I’m turning you.” Peepers peers up at him. “What-“ Before he can say anything Hater swoops down, closing his mouth around the side of Peepers neck where the paint isn’t. He really doesn't want to taste dry paint. He makes sure his fangs penetrate the surface lightly. 

Warmth closes around his neck, sending shivers down his shoulder blades. His heart runs in his chest as he pants. He can’t believe Lord Hater is doing this! And in a public place! Peepers tries to glance around to make sure no one is coming, but can’t see past Hater’s crouched form. 

Hater bites harder, false fangs marking into his skin. Peepers eye bangs against the wall. He digs his hands into Hater’s shoulders, moaning as his eye squeezes shut. “Oh sir.” It tumbles out of his lids before he even comprehends the words. 

“Ooh kinky.” 

Peepers jumps back, and Hater’s fangs scratch down his neck. The scratch leaves behind a burning white line, but doesn't draw blood. 

Hater straightens. Akin to Peepers his chest heaves and his eyes are consumed by his pupil. Peepers pupil is starting to steadily shrink from fear, but Haters shock evaporates as soon as it came. He glares at Awesome whose standing aways from them, sharp teeth splitting his smirk open. 

“You left this,” he waves their golden trophy in his hands, “but now I know why. In a hurry I see.” He cackles, “Guess you found something better.” He stares at Hater, who snatches the trophy out of his hands.

He shrugs, smirk thinning out horizontally across his face. “You’re welcome by the way, for getting you two together.” 

Hater crosses his arms, “Uh no we would've totally gotten together on our own!” 

Awesome rolls his eyes, “Cha, yeah right.”  Leaning against the wall for support, Peepers watches the fight unfolding.

Awesome fixes his gaze on Peepers, examining his neck. Pink floods into the corners of his eye, brining the unbarring heat back. Awesome’s smirk comes back, feeding on Peepers stance. 

“Take your boyfriend home.” Awesome turns around leaving Hater at a loss for what to say. “Uh yeah that’s what I was going to do! Duh!” Hater calls after him, but all he receives in reply is a door shutting. 

“Grop stupid Awesome. Come on C Peeps.” He nurses the trophy, sauntering ahead. Peepers sighs, typical. 

He heads out after him, surprised later on when they resume where they left off in the ship. Of course, it had been after he found the perfect spot to put their trophy. Right above a shelf near Hater’s bed, Hater insisting it be in his room since Peepers would be the one moving into his eventually since his was awesomer. Followed by that was shock and stutters, and Peepers tearing up. 

The next morning Peepers wakes up with faint bruises on his neck. Hater keeps the false fangs around longer than he intended to, liking them far more than he thought he would. Besides he wasn't done using them yet. 

He wants to be a vampire every year now, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hoping the ending wasn't OOC or too awkward... it's my first time writing anything besides kissing haha. 
> 
> Feedback fuels me :) 
> 
> Tumblr: hatesgreat-bestvillian


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